Suffering Fools
by Saturnian Dreamer
Summary: The students' latest prank just might be the push T.J. and Seth need to get their acts together.


**Title** : Suffering Fools

 **Rating** : T, just to be safe. Innuendo.

 **Category** : gen, het

 **Pairings** : Davenport/Goddard. Sexual tension you could cut with a knife.

 **Note/Disclaimer** : I don't own _Space Cases_ , I just miss it a whole lot. This takes place sometime after "Long Distance Calls." It was suggested somewhere that Davenport and Goddard share a birthday on April 1st, according to the Earth calendar. I'm not sure if it's canon or fanon, but my muse decided to do something about it.

 **Summary** : The students' latest prank just might be the push T.J. and Seth need to get their acts together.

 **Suffering Fools**

Davenport muttered under her breath as she marched into the Galley and shook the mixture of glop and engine lubricant from her hands. Her Starcademy uniform was soaked with the stuff, and the dense castoff made angry thwacking sounds on the wall and floor as she moved.

The students decided that it was high time for another practical joke to stave off boredom, and earlier that morning, Harlan realized that it was April Fool's Day by the Earth calendar. Having been inspired by his encounter with Reaver, he managed to turn Davenport's latest trip through the jumptubes into a revolting waterpark ride that only her access codes would activate.

T.J. shrugged off her jacket and it too made a damp squishing noise as it hit the floor. She took a rag from the cabinet under the sink and dabbed the slop from her face and neck, then wiped her hands. An infinite number of wash cycles would likely do nothing to help the state of her clothing, and she lamented that her uniform would surely be headed to the incinerator.

The doors whirred open and Commander Goddard entered. The man made a pitiful attempt at hiding a smirk—covering a chuckle with a cough—as he looked her over and she glared back at him.

She had lost all patience. "Commander," she greeted him through gritted teeth.

"Miss Davenport," he answered back with the faintest quirk of a smile. "You okay?"

"What the hell do you think? Does it look like I'm okay?!" T.J. threw her hands in the air in exasperation and immediately regretted it when she heard the squelching noise again. She groaned as the Commander turned away and snorted while trying to hold in a laugh.

"You think this is funny?" she seethed. "The students pull a prank me—one that is certainly messy and potentially dangerous—and meanwhile they throw you a birthday party to which I have not been invited!"

Once Goddard was sure there was no threat of bursting into laughter again, he turned back around to face her. She was understandably angry, but there was also sadness in her eyes. As much as she drove him up the wall, he hated to see her hurt. "T.J., I feel really bad about this."

"Oh, do you?" she challenged him.

"Yes. And I'd like to apologize on behalf of the students."

"If you had a hand in planning this, so help me—"

"I promise I wasn't involved. I'll even tell the kids to lay off you for a while. I know what it's like: I've been the butt of some jokes too, you know. People liked to pull birthday pranks on me when I was a student at the Academy. I took it in stride, but some of them were pretty bad."

Davenport rolled her eyes and gave a reluctant nod. "I suppose we have something else in common, then." Goddard gave T.J. another once-over, a move that did not go unnoticed by her. She glared at him. "To borrow a phrase, 'My eyes are up here,' Commander."

Goddard cleared his throat. "Right. Sorry. Your uniform is just—"

"Soaked. Yes. So it would appear," she deadpanned.

The Commander unzipped his jacket and handed it to Davenport as a peace offering. She accepted the garment but held it at arm's length as if it—not her—was drenched in slop.

"To cover up," Goddard clarified. "In case you don't trust me to 'keep my eyes up here,' to borrow a phrase."

T.J. felt her entire face flush as she handed the wool layer back to him. "Thank you, but I don't want to ruin your uniform as well. I do rather look like a spectacle though, don't I?"

Goddard refrained from glancing anywhere below her neck. Her hair was damp and mussed, her makeup was smudged, and she had her own brand of fire in her eyes. "Not all spectacles are bad," he decided.

He was pleased to see he had visibly flustered again. She let out a shaky sigh as her focus flitted around the room. "I don't suppose they are."

Goddard zipped his jacket before taking the towel from her hand and gently wiping a small drip of glop from her forehead. His voice was kind and genuine when he said, "Happy birthday, T.J."

"Thank you. Might I request that you don't inform the students of the occasion? I dread to think of any other surprises they may have for me."

"Deal. Consider it Part One of my present to you."

"Part One? Implying there is a Part Two?"

He flashed a sly smile. "Part Two is letting you assign their punishment."

Davenport couldn't help but offer a playful grin. "That is quite a thoughtful present."

"I figured you'd like it. And I didn't even need a gift receipt," he joked back.

"I'm sorry I don't have a proper gift prepared for you. I don't like to be reminded of my birthday, and to be honest I lost track of time."

Goddard shrugged. "Nah, it's okay. I don't need anything."

"Well, even so..." Feeling rather bold, T.J. gave him a peck on the cheek. He stood in shock as she took the washcloth from him and wiped away a bit of goo that had inevitably wound up on his face. Once at the door, she turned back and explained to a stunned Seth, "That was Part One."

Seth's brain short-circuited. After what she said earlier, surely she didn't mean...

By the time Seth regained the ability to speak, T.J. was gone, and he was left to contemplate the implications of Part Two.


End file.
